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Built into the cliffs overlooking the Suvan Sea, Riverfall resides on the edge of grasslands of Cyphrus where the Bluevein River plunges off the plain and cascades down to the inland sea below. Home of the Akalak, Riverfall is a self-supporting city populated by devoted warriors. [Riverfall Codex]

Akalaks it appeared had a great deal of care for training and combat. If the fact that most, if not all, of the physically fit all-male species happened to be carrying a weapon had been missed by a particularly blind and ignorant sentient, then they would notice how they required everyone else who act as residents in their city to know how to defend themselves.

If, and that was a pretty big if one might add, they happened to miss that then it would be the fact that they had multiple private and open training areas for the use of training. The fact they had laws that most could be absolved if they happened to win a duel in their giant arena, and a whole other slew of obvious things.

If somehow, amongst all of that overwhelming evidence, they still fail to notice they may as well have been deaf and blind. Robin, thankfully, was not that deeply blind and he’d have stabbed himself with one of his arrows were he so ignorant.

‘ I’d have ta be a legendary sorta stupid ta go ‘ere an’ not know whatsit about’ the ’ere’ in question happened to be the Kendoka Sasaran, Riverfall’s school of weaponry. Though he came here knowing it would involve weapons training, he was still surprised by the number of Akalak and their enthusiasm in training here.

He imagined the unarmed school had as much enthusiasm but he’d not visit there yet.

The entire building was made of hardy materials and was spacious enough that it was unlikely any of the students would accidentally strike anything of import. However, the amount of people placed into groups based on weapons preference and the distance between the different groups seemed to create a crowdedness all on its own.

He was given time to observe, to make certain that he was somewhat familiar prior to jumping into training. The master of the place had already taken note of what Robin needed to learn before gently assigning a student to oversee him, said student was a few inches taller than he yet his youthful face spoke volumes of his age.

Robin couldn’t place it, but if the lad were a human he may have placed him as his younger. The lad was standing with him, pointing out things of interest in accented common. One of such things is the tradition of students immediately jumping into duels if they happened to bump into each other. Already a number of such duels were taking place, though they tried to kept distance of the other students.

Other duels were less spontaneous, yet like the training held as much spontaneity as a real duel and often held more than more than two combatants. The vigor behind it all made sure to extract every ounce of energy from the warriors and leaving as many in bruises.

Once he was satisfied, the student had taken him to one corner. A wooden battle axe in hand and loaning one for Robin’s use. Robin had set most of his gear aside, including his unstrung bow and arrows as well as his actual axe, and took the wooden practice axe.

“I shall spar with you, see what you know” The Akalak began, taking a battle stance as he gripped the axe with a two handed grip as he lightly swung it about “If good, you train with group. Bad, I train you till you good with group” he announced simply.

Robin accepted the terms, nodding as he took his own stance. Admitteldy he felt a tinge of excitement, a chance to flex his muscles against an actual combatant.

‘This’ll be a propa scrap ’

Last edited by Robinson Gilli on June 24th, 2017, 4:42 pm, edited 1 time in total.

The fight moved swiftly. The Akalak surged forth to be the first to make an attack by swing the back of the axe towards his from a left to right angle. In response Robinson ducked, the training weapon whizzed past his head and air displaced ruffling his hair lightly.

In retaliation Robin then swung his axe forward, aiming to lodge the wooden head into his gut only for the Akalak to step back and use his own axe to parry it away then quickly raise his axe upward to bring it down overhead. Already off balance from the parry Robin opted to roll to the left, bruising his right shoulder on impact however on the hard ground.

He grunted with annoyance, rolling his shoulder as he glared at big blue and… well blue, he couldn’t rightly call him ugly despite it being only an internal thought. The Akalak went on the offensive once more, going for another overhead strike. Robin raised his axe by the haft, one had gripping the neck and the oher pushing against the flat of the axe head while the opposing head hooked onto his.

The blade of the opposing axe was mere inches away from him, he could feel himself sweat and was certain it wasn’t the heat that was getting to him. No doubt, his opponent’s physical strength was superior to his as this physical struggle of will taxed his muscles, but he couldn’t let it end here.

With a burst of strength he pushed his opponent back enough to free himself from the struggle but not enough to push him off guard. Still he could try and get a proper hit in and so he tried as he stepped forward, bringing his axe down from an upper right to leftward down strike. However before he could go into full swing the axe head was caught with the haft of his opponent, suddenly the Akalak pulled forward and Robin found his nose meeting the Akalak’s extended elbow, knocking him to the ground.

Either through sheer luck or he had a firmer grip than even he expected, the training axe was still in Robin’s hand. His breathing came difficult, his nose bent as a film of blood dripped over his mouth. Opening his eyes in alert, he rolled to the side in time to avoid a stomp of the leg on his chest. As he went to a knee he watched the Akalak with a wariness.

As he experienced firsthand the youth evidently, and the rest of his kind perhaps, mixed his skill with weapons with unarmed attacks. Not unusual, but not usually so refined and he had to remind himself Akalak’s lived and breathed training, self-improvement was literally a credo of theirs though it was perhaps the first time he really understood.

In opposite to them, he usually focused on one skill at a time. In fact, he rarely ever had to rely upon his fists save for forcing an opening for his axe. The Akalaks mixed theirs he was learning, as every skill that could earn victory in battle had to be used, even in a spar.

Quickly standing full he shifted to the side, though the movement groggy it was no less timely as the Akalak moved forward in a straight foot thrust that could have either sent him back on his rear or simply pushed him off balance. No doubt providing the nail in the coffin that would have ended this spar.

The mercenary moved for the offensive, realizing he was on the dredges of defeat he realized his best bet was to go for an all-out offensive. Generally, when fighting only with an axe an offensive was really the only stratagem. The tendency of an opponent to keep their distance from an axe was the weapons only true defensive advantage.

Here, he and his opponent were both aware of the advantages and disadvantages of the axe and his opponent had the edge combined with other skills and both a natural and honed physical endurance and strength superior to his own. Yes, an all-out aggressive attack was perhaps his only way through this.

His attacks would be erratic, furious, and thus almost unpredictable. He would seem a berserker, a cornered rat who’d even set a pack of angry hounds warry. It was a high risk high reward sort of thing, but it would be worth a try.

Charging forward and rage in his eyes, he began to swing his axe in furious arcs. For brief moments the Akalak stilled as he unconsciously stepped back, yet resolve and calm kept him from falling to the mental trap. Eyes keenly observing Robin’s movement even as he made damn sure to avoid the wild attacks.

Shortly and ultimately it was Robin’s endurance that did him in, failing to land a blow on the Akalak and being led to exhaust himself as well as the toll of the previous damage taking effect. As sweat covered his brow and his breath was weezy, breathing from his mouth instead of his nose. He tried to defiantly stand despite his exhaustion only to fall to his knees and use the training battle axe as a crux.

The Akalak, the youth, approached and knelt down. A hand placed on Robin’s shoulder and another to help him up. Knowing victory was not to be had, he accepted the help.

After one painful nose setting and explanation later, the tired Robinson found himself standing outside the Sasaran. His items retrieved and a sense… of frustration? Yes, frustration filled him. He was deemed skilled with an axe, fairly so. But it was his endurance that caused him problems.

As explained to him and he’d seen firsthand, the Akalaks trained religiously and Robin may as well meant that literally. Their dedication far surpassed his and sunk it out of the ocean. Looking at the blisters from years of swinging his axe and practicing his bow he could only feel inferior.

That irritated him.

With lacking endurance he could not participate in their training fully, with lacking variety in his move set he would rarely, perhaps never, gain an advantage even against those of lesser combat experience thanks to how they mix and match their skills. They weren’t Sunberth thugs, who on either numbers, trickery or a single combat skill to survive depending on their inclinations.

The youth whom he’d sparred with, he really couldn’t call him a youth though despite his boyish face…. The man he fought with had given him a few key suggestions and Robin found himself raising his head up to the sky as he closed his eyes in brief recollection.

The first and the most obvious, up his endurance. Either at one of the Sasarans, on his own, or at a gym in town named after the Arena. Just like he had no shortage of areas to train at, he had no shortage of methods and the most basic was to run, building his stamina as well as his legs. Indeed, a bi-product would be increasing his body strength if he were dedicated.

The second suggestion was to take up training at the… at the… oh what was the name? The Tuvya Sasaran, yes. If he took up an unarmed skill he could mix it up with his battle axe to refine his abilities even further and increase his value as a warrior.

The last suggestion, well an option of two really, was either to take up a shield or another axe. He had to admit, the thought was intriguing; a shield, depending on its size, would add a needed layer of defense and would certainly make his offensives feel less risky. But he’d have to learn from the ground up, he noted. And, again depending on the size, it could take up space and he’d already had a composite longbow and a quiver of arrows.

Another battle axe on the other would bring an increased offensive and as he already had a familiarity with a battle axe he’d have an easier time perhaps learning to use two in concert.

‘ easy ta say, but walkin’ it iz different’ He noted, as he began to walk away from the Sasaran ‘ But da was always sayin’ that whats good ain’t easy ta come by ‘less ya get it yourself’ And so he intended to just that. He’d take what he can from these Akalaks, and forge himself into something formidable.

Riverfall: Everyone must be combat readyLocation: Kendoka SasaranAkalak: A warrior peopleBattleaxe: An offensive weaponUsefulness of a shield

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As always, Death guide you mercenary~Grim

Grim as an Eiyon, appears to undead as either something to be fearful, or weary of, depending on their personal power. To others, he might seem like a mystery, or just odd.